


Where The Love Light Gleams

by primreceded



Category: Supernatural RPS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-24
Updated: 2008-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:10:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primreceded/pseuds/primreceded





	Where The Love Light Gleams

**Title:** Where The Love Light Gleams  
 **Rating:** nc17  
 **Fandom:** Supernatural RPS  
 **Disclaimer:** The characters within this fic are real people, they belong to themselves. This story is a work of fiction, no character defemation was intended.I am in no way earning money or other profit from this fanfic.  
 **Char/Pair:** Jared/Jensen  
 **Prompt:** _I'll Be Home For Christmas by Josh Groban, NC17_ by [](http://www.insanejournal.com/users/willow_fae_20/profile)[](http://www.insanejournal.com/users/willow_fae_20/)**willow_fae_20**  
 **Spoilers:** None  
 **Warnings:** Little angst, little schmoop, boy sex.  
 **W/C:** 1,069  
 **A/N:** It's not _very_ nc17, I'm not good at writing graphic sex, but I think it warrents the rating anyway. Hopefully it's not too rushed, or I portrayed Jensen too... oddly. Unbeta'd mistakes are mine.

Jensen feels like he’s in the middle of some romcom movie, like some clichéd tool sitting in an airport on Christmas eve. He keeps watching the monitors, like maybe if he stares hard enough they’ll change, they’ll tell him that Jared’s on his way.

It’s crowded, too many people talking at once and pushing each other to get home to their families. The Christmas spirit alive and well. The radio plays the same four songs on loop, driving him damn near crazy, to the point where he’s willing to forget about Jared just so he could get the hell out of there. Away from the arguments and screaming babies.

The monitor blinks, blacks, then flickers back to tell him that flights are canceled. That Jared isn’t coming.

&

His phone rings on the way to his car but he doesn’t answer it. It’s not Jared’s fault but he’s pissed off and he’s got to take it out on someone. When he slides into the driver’s side the cell buzzes in his pocket for voicemail, beeps for a text and he pulls it out to frown at the screen.

_I’m sorry_

&

Jensen takes the long way home, has nothing to meet him there but an empty house so he doesn’t rush. The lights are on when he pulls into the driveway, set to a timer and come on exactly at six o’clock every night along with the tree that sits in the corner of the living room, ever since the day after Thanksgiving. They reflect off of the snow, the hood of his car, a wash of greens and pinks and blues.

He doesn’t bother turning on any inside lights when he finally opens, closes and locks the door behind him; there‘s enough light from the tree to guide him if he didn‘t already know his way around their house. He just toes out of his sneakers, tosses his keys and makes his way to bed. He knows he’s being a jackass, but he doesn’t know how to make it better, doesn’t want to talk to Jared and try. Doesn’t want the embarrassment, to say anything that could potentially make things bad between them.

It’s Christmas and he’s alone when it wasn‘t even his idea to stay in Vancouver. Jared had promised he’d be home in time for the holiday when he‘d told Jensen he was going. He’s not.

Jensen has the right to be bitter.

&

He jerks awake in the middle of the night, something crashes downstairs and for a second he forgets Jared isn’t there - reaches over to slap the other man awake only to be me with cold sheets.

He cusses, swings his legs over the side of the bed, scrubs a hand over his face and fumbles for his glasses on the nightstand. He grabs the heaviest knick knack he can find on his way out of the bedroom and slowly creeps his way down the stairs.

He peers around the corner into the living room, sees the hunkered shape of Jared, hears the click clack of the dogs’ nails and the shush as Jared tries to quiet them down. Jensen sighs, relieved, and flips the switch the bathe the room in light.

Jared jerks up and turns to look guilty but happy at Jensen. His dimpled smile sends Jensen’s heart tripping and he almost forgets that he’s annoyed. He straightens and makes his way over to Jensen, grinning. He wraps his arms around Jensen’s waist and leans in to kiss him. Jensen kisses back. Angry or not he’d never not want to kiss Jared back.

“What are you doing here,” he breaths into Jared’s mouth when they pull back enough for him to speak. Jared rests their foreheads together, his fingers play idly with the elastic of Jensen’s flannel pajama bottoms, the calloused digits dipping below.

“I live here,” Jared replies, teasing. Then, serious, “I drove all night, Jen. I know you’re mad that the flight was canceled, but you gotta know it wasn’t my fault.”

Jensen does know, that Jared can’t control the weather and that, if he could’ve, he would’ve commandeered an airplane and drove himself. He buries his face in Jared’s jacket, breathes in the scent of cold and clean and Jared. Mumbles assurances that he knows and it’s okay into the wool.

“We got grounded in Seattle,” Jared says. Idle conversation as he takes Jensen’s hand and leads him back up the stairs and to their room. “You should see the junker I had to rent, man, I prayed the whole way I wouldn’t get stranded somewhere.”

Jared chuckles and Jensen watches as he peels out of his jacket, his three shirts and strips himself of his jeans. The whole time he’s telling Jensen about the car, the woman on the plane next to him who had flirted until he’d finally had to tell her to back off and that she didn’t even care that he was probably rude, she just went to flirt with the steward.

“When we got off the flight in Washington I saw the two of’em sneak off to the airport bathroom," he says with a glint of mischief in his cat-tipped eyes.

The whole time he’s telling Jensen how sorry he is.

When they finally climb into bed Jared stops talking, presses himself over Jensen, pushes him into the mattress and kisses his way down his neck. He sucks bruises into his skin, biting marks of claim that will shine proud in the morning.

His fingers have found their way back under the waistband of Jensen’s pants, they tug until he’s able to run knuckle over the exposed hip bone, thigh, until Jensen is able to kick them off and over the side of the bed. Jared finds Jensen’s mouth with his own and Jensen kisses back with fervor, with forgiveness and apologies too.

Jared pulls back, fumbles for the lube and condom in the nightstand and it’s only seconds when he’s pushing one then two fingers into him. A quick stretch, burn, and then Jared’s inside him wholly, rubbing soothing hands over Jensen’s skin. They rock together, Jared groaning above him and Jensen buries his hands into the thick chestnut locks at the nape of his neck.

“I told you I’d be home in time for Christmas.”

He wonders how cliché it would be to think of Jared as a Christmas miracle.


End file.
